My stomach turned as I walked towards my new art teacher, Mrs. Sanchez, who was beaming in anticipation. “So, did you get drawing and painting?” she said, as I cringed and began explaining; I asked about it, but the guidance office refused. Mrs. Sanchez was not deterred, saying, “Oh that’s no issue, just fill out this form for an independent study.”
Throughout my time in high school, Mrs. Sanchez has been an unwavering source of support and encouragement. I ended up taking at least one art class for every year of high school, creating multiple AP portfolios and having the incredible opportunity to have my work be a part of multiple exhibitions. Art isn’t the most impactful way that Mrs. Sanchez has affected me, though. Not unlike the way she encouraged me to grow and experiment as an artist, she provided me with a safe, positive place to grow as a person. She, almost offhandedly, reaffirmed the idea that I could accomplish what I set out to do. However, she never scoffed if I needed help on something. This approach on art translated incredibly well to other aspects of my life.
For the majority of my life, I’ve felt called towards medicine, specifically surgery. I have a deep fascination with the human body and a desire to help end medical discrimination; I’ve felt that some internal compass has been pointing me towards this field. My passion for neuroscience and medicine, along with art, has never been a question in my mind. But, particularly throughout the second half of middle school, I felt that my ambitions were simply impossible- that I could never be capable of accomplishing them. When I was hospitalized during the fall of eighth grade, I worried that any dreams I had were evaporating. As I entered high school, I felt a deep sense of fear: fear of failure, fear of inadequacy, fear of my own expectations. However, with the help of family members and therapy, I’ve slowly worked to overcome my struggles with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. It didn’t hurt that I knew I always had someone like Mrs. Sanchez on my side.
She was seemingly never doubtful of my potential, never made me feel inadequate. Over the years, she’s even commented on how I seem to be coming into myself, developing a unique style, and how I have a quiet confidence that is undeniable. She recommended me for a commission job at a local winery- a project that solidified my confidence and led to me completing a second mural at the same winery. When I was researching and applying to colleges, I remembered her words and felt motivated to apply to schools that I would have never thought I had a chance at. I’ve become a person who can stand on her own and pursue my ambitions, my creativity, my curiosity, without being held back by feelings of exclusion. My dream school soon became Johns Hopkins University, at which I applied for early decision. Last September I took an informal trip to walk around campus, and I immediately felt at home. I no longer felt the intense self-doubt that I used to, and when anxious “what-ifs” popped up in my mind, I let them pass without intense scrutiny. When I received my acceptance letter, I was over the moon! Now, reflecting on everything as an incoming freshman at JHU, I recognize how special it is that an art teacher helped me pursue an education in neuroscience. I will never forget how she impacted my art, and I will never forget how she impacted my life.